Even Sorting Hats Enjoy Their Fun
by Juli Beawr
Summary: The Weasley Twins loved mischief. On the first day of their return to Hogwarts in their second year, they decide to share a well thought out prank with another. One-shot


A devious young redhead slipped through the nearly closed doors of the Great Hall. He grinned devilishly and tapped the shoulder of his twin. His twin looked back at him and he winked.

"Did you convince it, Fred?" His twin asked. Fred Weasley's grin widened and he nodded.

"It took quite a while. Never thought an old hat could yell like Mum and curse like Ronnikins at the same time,"

"Well, after being in the heads of eleven year olds for its entire life, I would guess that it would pick up a few things."

"I would, if I were a mind-reading cap,"

"Aye,"

Then Professor Minerva McGonagall marched into the Great Hall. Her face was red, her lips in a thin line. It seemed that someone had already tested her patience enough for the night. She quieted the students, informed them that the first years would be coming in for their sorting soon, and prohibited any sort of mischief that might terrify the first years. She looked right at the red-headed fiends when she said this, and they acknowledged her scrutiny with flirtatious waves of their fingers. Her lips thinned further. With a nearly inaudible huff, McGonagall strode out of the Great Hall.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. The firsties shuffled into the Great Hall. Each of them wore pallid skin and terrified expressions. Professor McGonagall placed a worn-down old hat on a stool. Then it began to sing.

_Twinkle Winkle Ickle Firstie _

_You put me on and now I'm thirsty!_

_What's in your brain, I'd like to know_

_So then we'll see where you'll go!_

_Gryffindors live up up high,_

_There bold go who only sometimes cry._

_They are known to be rather plucky,_

_Unlike snakes who live in sewers—Which are yucky._

_Slytherins live down below_

_If you are crafty and grand that's where you'll go._

_Hufflepuffs are really trusty._

_ In hard work and friendship they're not rusty._

_ Ravenclaws are truly great_

_ Their thirst for knowledge none can sate. _

_ Now clamp me on I do not bite_

_ And I'd really like it if you wouldn't either (cause that's not nice, and I was dry-cleaned yesterday, so please.)_

_ Thank you all, I'm the Sorting Hat!_

Most of the Great Hall was beside themselves with laughter. The even staff's mouths twitched slightly. No one—not even Dumbledore—had ever heard a sorting song like that. The twins gave impish grins. They had written that song, and it had taken forever to convince the hat to use it, but they won it over eventually; even a hat likes to have fun every once in a while. Then the names started to be called, and for the first three first years, everything was normal, then:

"Chang, Cho!"

A small, black haired Asian girl sat on the stool, and the hat was fitted snugly on her head. The twins smirked when the hat seemed to wink in their direction.

"Slytherclaw!"

Dumfounded silence. This had never happened in all of Hogwarts history. Not once had any students been sorted into a cross-house. Cho Chang started to cry. With thinned lips, McGonagall removed the hat from her head. Cho Chang was sent to sit in a conjured chair near the staff table so that everything could be sorted out… but that wasn't the end of it.

"Huffledor!"

"Slytherpuff!"

"Ravendor!"

"Gryffilyn!"

"Ravenpuff!"

Everyone but the Weasley twins sat with gaping mouths. Never in all of their years of Hogwarts…

Finally, the hat couldn't handle it anymore. It simply burst out laughing. This anomaly caught everyone's attention as well, as it was quite bizarre to see a hat nearly incoherent with laughter. Actually it was strange that a hat was laughing at all. It was doubled over on a poor firstie's head. The hat trembled and shook. Fred and George wondered what it was like to have a laughing hat on your head.

Then Professor Severus Snape caught sight of the twin's expressions. He rose violently from his seat, his normally shallow skin turning the most curious shade of puce.

"_WEASLY!"_


End file.
